“It’s your building, too,” Marie said. She was standing next to him. Closest to him. So why was it Gabi’s stare that he felt cutting into him? “We’ve got the biggest apartment in the place. You’re certainly entitled to two smaller ones,” she added.
“What’s up?” Gabrielle’s question tacked on to the end of Marie’s comment.
“You want to use it as an office for your writing?” Marie asked.
Made sense. Or would have, if he’d still been the person he’d been when they’d purchased the building that morning.
“Since your dad’s so anal about you not spending any time writing in your real office, and the desk in your condo isn’t going to hold many more of those research files.”
He could say yes. Leave it at that. For now. Until he gave his dad time to cool down. To come to his senses...
“No.” Liam hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until he heard his voice crack out into the room. “No,” he said again. “I want to live here.”
Other than the nine months he’d spent in the dorm his freshman year of college, he’d never even lived in a building without a doorman.
“Live here?” Both women spoke at once.
“With association fees, my living expenses at the condo are more than rent and utilities will be here.” He’d studied the spreadsheets.
“Especially since, as owners, we aren’t paying rent,” Gabi said dryly. Her frown bothered him far more than the words. She was always on to him first.
“I cannot spend the rest of my life living under my father’s thumb in a building he owns and relying only on him for my livelihood.” They’d heard the part about the livelihood before. More than once. “If I’m going to be the man I claim to be, I have to do more than just talk.”
After sharing a long look with Gabrielle, Marie caught up. “What’s going on?”
“He kicked you out, didn’t he? For buying this place. He took away your condo.” Elbows on the desk, Gabrielle didn’t move. He felt as though she’d punched him.
“He thinks he can take away your home, like he took away your car freshman year? Who does that?” Marie asked, a horrified expression on her face. “That’s ludicrous.”
Her horror made his stomach crawl. As though he was far worse off than he’d allowed himself to believe. And they didn’t even know the half of it.
“Liam?” Gabrielle had him with just one word. But he couldn’t lean on her. Not this time. He didn’t have to prove to himself that he was a man. He knew the hell he’d been through with his father, how hard it had been to bite his tongue and offer the old man the respect he’d deserved. He knew of the responsibilities he’d carried at Connelly Investments—all with successful results.
But seeing himself in Gabi’s eyes and then in Marie’s, right then, homeless and disowned, he saw what they’d seen, what he was afraid they still saw: that eighteen-year-old kid whose father had stripped him of his keys...
“My father has agreed to leave me completely alone,” he said. “I am choosing to move here. I am tired of having people look at me as the two of you are looking at me right now. Like my existence depends upon my father. Like ultimately my decisions rest with him.”
There was no moral obligation to tell them he’d been disinherited. Their investment, backed by the trust which his father couldn’t touch, was completely safe. If he was truly going to stand up and take control of his life, he had to do this on his own. A part of Liam eased at the thought. Leaning on no one meant that no one could yank the rug out from under his feet. The loss of a job, of a fancy home, were worth that freedom.
He was going to be someone people leaned on. Starting with Gabi and Marie.
“I’ll pay for the renovations,” he told them. For instance, he wasn’t going to need two kitchens. The idea was growing on him. He’d make one kitchen an office. Or maybe one of the four bedrooms should be used for that purpose. Truth was, he had no idea what he was going to do with the space. He just knew he wanted it.
More and more with every minute that passed.
He didn’t feel quite as desperate anymore.
“And another thing,” he added, nodding as he looked first at one and then the other. “I’ve decided to give myself one year to make it as a writer. I’m going to devote myself to full-time writing. And if, at the end of the year,
I’m not self-supporting, I’ll go back into finance.”
“Your father agreed to that?” Marie’s shock was evident. Liam looked at Gabrielle. Expecting—he didn’t know what. Doubt, maybe? Concern, certainly. She always saw the risks.
And saw through him, too.
She was staring at him, and for once he couldn’t tell at all what she was thinking.
“You don’t think I can do it.” Why he said the words, he didn’t know. Didn’t much matter what she thought. His life was unfolding before him, one wilted petal at a time.